


Fallen Strings

by moonqueenallura



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Gen, allenlena, brotp fic, dgm ot4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-18
Updated: 2014-10-18
Packaged: 2018-02-21 14:54:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2472302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonqueenallura/pseuds/moonqueenallura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After all that happened, he was still only human to them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fallen Strings

**Author's Note:**

> Pairing: None; Friendship fic between Allen and Lenalee; OT4
> 
> Warnings: Angst?? Lenalee's introspection on Allen - spoilers up to most recent chapter? 
> 
> Words: 629

            After it all, the storm within them quieted. But only a little bit.

            The Order felt empty nowadays, emptier than it had been before her brother arrived. She was trapped in prison, but this time those she loved couldn't help her. The higher-ups carefully packaged Allen into the box labeled "Enemy No #1" and he had to leave, if only to protect the people he loved and to find himself in a world that rejected him. He was stuck between light and dark. She was caught between insanity and clarity. 

            All that registered with her was that he left them. He left her.

            Lenalee went on quiet walks through the city parks with Marie every day. After Kanda came back - forsaking his freedom and continuing on a bloodshed path of restriction - Marie looked into space, more lost than he had ever been. He was no longer as sturdy as before, because nothing made sense. They relied on each other to keep their sanities intact.

            She would sigh into the air and her breath would curl into stillness. She reminisced. What did she forget? Who was there no longer? She contemplated. Lavi was missing. The halls were empty without his cheerful, mischievous laughter that wrapped around her like a thick blanket, without Allen's smile (like the sun, breaking out through the clouds, like the sun, warming her in his embrace and holding her close), without Kanda's perpetually grumpy countenance and secretive kindness.

            Lenalee prayed to the God she hated for their safe return, but she was also tired. Tired of the war, the deaths of many comrades, the ever-present stench of death permeating the air. She was tired. God, she was tired. Tears flowed like the blood from her crystalline legs, and she felt whole no longer. The meter of time ticked. Her eyes faded from gold dust to the ghosts of silver memories.

            Sometimes, when she went on long walks with herself as company or with Marie, she'd cry into the night. The night shook her with the force of her own madness. She had thought that no sadness ran through her veins, but the burden of her world pressed down on her at every turn. So she cried, and cursed her fate, and wished for reunion as an injured animal longs for salvation. And there she saw children running to and fro, and there she smiled, and, and there she wept for their broken souls. Because god, were they broken. They were broken. They were broken and at a standstill. They did nothing to fix themselves. They waited. She repeated this mantra in her head until she felt until she her skin burst into flames. Until the wind licked her wounds. Until the salt from her crystalline blood dried.

            She only had one source of strength left. She was intertwined with the people she left behind. The love she held for her boys, who no longer warmed the halls of a cold, frigid place; she wanted to reunite with them, to walk with them, to fight alongside them again. Fighting was meaningless without something to fight for.

            And, finally, she continued fighting for Allen Walker. For she still considered him human. He was not a Noah, an accursed betrayer of humanity; nor was he purely human, of course, and she _knew_ that yes, but she wished the others would stop viewing it in such dual terms. He was an exorcist, and he'd come back one day to smile at her and pick her up from the ground, sweeping her into the broad expanse of his arms. And she would be whole once again.

            He was the sun and moon, the sun's golden light filtering down on her, the moon's shadows casting her into safety and his embrace.


End file.
